


a kind of synergy

by cataclysm_dialogue



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Catboy Anakin Skywalker, Consensual Somnophilia, Dirty Talk, M/M, Rimming, Somnophilia, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29679999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cataclysm_dialogue/pseuds/cataclysm_dialogue
Summary: “You’ve got to stop sleeping naked on the floor of my apartment.”“Not a chance, Master."
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 13
Kudos: 78





	a kind of synergy

**Author's Note:**

> This is an absolute mess and I slightly hate it but I felt like I needed to get it out of my system. Anakin is a catboy and everyone is happy.

“We’re too old to be this amused by the thought of that,” Obi-Wan says, even as he chuckles and scratches behind Anakin’s fuzzy ears. Anakin sounds like he might be all but purring as he leans into it. Then he laughs again, the sound bright and clear in the air of the Temple gardens as they sit on the grass.

“Seriously, Obi-Wan, the thought of Grand Master Yoda using his walking stick to whack people’s knees is sophisticated humor, and I don’t see you being all stone-faced about it,” Anakin argues, and Obi-Wan tries to stifle another absolutely undignified giggle that bubbles up within him as he looks at Anakin, who is still slightly flushed from his laughing fit earlier.

“I just don’t understand why I find it so funny when it’s so silly,” Obi-Wan says, but now Anakin gazes at him very mock-seriously.

“It’s the stress,” Anakin says, and he begins trying to muffle more laughter with his flesh hand, his body shaking as he tries not to become too amused. Obi-Wan finds himself chuckling again.

“Yes, that plays a part I think. I think it might also be nervousness,” Obi-Wan says sagaciously. Now Anakin looks intrigued.

“Nervousness, Master?”

“Yes, dear one. The nervousness that results from never knowing quite when Grand Master Yoda might come up behind you and whack the backs of your knees, as he is wont to do, of course.” Obi-Wan cannot keep a straight face any longer, and he devolves into more laughter as Anakin gives up on containing himself and holds his stomach with one hand as he laughs once more.

“Something funny?” The stern voice jolts both of them out of their laughing fit, but there’s an amusement already wound into the voice that’s speaking, as if the speaker would very much like to be in on the joke. And Obi-Wan knows this voice.

Mace Windu is now carefully sitting cross-legged on the grass between them, and he inclines his head slightly in greeting to both of them as he says, “Master Kenobi. Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin both say, “Master Windu,” in perfect unison, and the hilarious coincidence of it all prompts Obi-Wan to cover his mouth with his hand as discreetly as he can to avoid laughing again and appearing disrespectful. Anakin is barely containing himself, looking as if he’s about to explode, but thankfully, Mace speaks again.

“So? Tell me this joke. I’d like to know what has you both in fits of laughter,” Mace says, and he looks between them as if he’s waiting to hear the most humorous thing in the world. Now Obi-Wan feels a tinge of embarrassment for encouraging this behavior that Master Windu will certainly frown upon, so he decides to take responsibility for the situation.

“Well, Master Windu, we were just discussing the possibility that perhaps, in some world that is certainly not this one, Grand Master Yoda would...possibly…whack the backs of people’s knees with his walking stick,” Obi-Wan says, and he waits to be admonished.

But now Mace is chuckling, the sound so pleasant and heartfelt that it has Obi-Wan smiling and looking back over at Anakin, whose expression is now flitting between amused, surprised, and slightly disgruntled.

“What Obi-Wan—Master Kenobi didn’t tell you, Master Windu, is that it was _my_ joke,” Anakin says, now all too eager to claim credit for their laughter, his tail twitching from side to side in excitement. How Obi-Wan adores him.

“Your joke? Well then perhaps you’d like to hear a very true story regarding your joke, Skywalker,” Mace says, and he gazes off into the distance as if recalling an ancient time. “It was quite a while ago…” Obi-Wan looks at Anakin again to find him staring at Mace with rapt attention, as if he’d like to ask him to hurry up, but doesn’t want to overstep. But a smirk is playing at the corners of Mace’s lips as he begins to speak again.

“Years ago, I was walking in the hallways of the Jedi Temple, minding my own business as I do, when suddenly, _whack_! A terrible pain in the backs of my knees. I doubled over, wondering who this assailant could be, but then…” Mace trails off to let the suspense trickle into the conversation, and Anakin’s ears are twitching in delight as he waits for Mace to continue. Mace now looks between them, an expression of mock offense on his face.

“Aren’t either of you going to ask me what happened next? Jedi these days…” Mace looks as if he’s about to break his facade of sternness, but then Anakin jumps in.

“And then?”

Mace smiles gently for a moment before returning to his storytelling persona. “And then, I heard the tap of a walking stick against the floor. When I turned around, none other than Grand Master Yoda was standing behind me. I said, ‘Grand Master, _why_?’ and he simply gazed at me and said, ‘Bad posture, you have. Correct it, you must.’ And I will always remember that day,” Mace finishes. He looks between Anakin and Obi-Wan, and suddenly all the tension snaps in an instant, the three of them bursting into their own laughter at the ridiculousness of the story, the sound of their mirth reaching up through the gardens as if a symbol of the camaraderie they share as Jedi. Obi-Wan is unsure how long they laugh for, but Mace gently touches his shoulder as their laughter dies. 

“You are both doing well,” Mace says, and Obi-Wan sees his other hand is on Anakin’s shoulder. For some reason, the simple affirmation makes Obi-Wan’s heart swell with affection for all those at the Temple, especially those who have sought to be his mentors, and he swallows to keep his voice from wavering as he speaks.

“Thank you, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan says.

“Thank you, Master Windu,” Anakin echoes, and Mace inclines his head in a kind nod before standing.

“I will see you two later. May the Force be with you,” Mace says, bowing to both of them formally as if they hadn’t just engaged in a laughing fit over the idea of Yoda whacking the backs of people’s knees.

“And with you,” Obi-Wan says, and he hears Anakin simultaneously speak the same sentiment as they both incline their heads to Mace. Mace walks away at a casual pace. Obi-Wan watches him go, thinking on approval and validation and kindness, until Anakin unceremoniously plops his head in Obi-Wan’s lap.

“Scratch behind my ears; I like when you do that,” Anakin demands, and he looks up at Obi-Wan with expectation in his eyes, both beautiful and terrifying in its depth. But Obi-Wan is doing well. And so is Anakin. So Obi-Wan lets some of his worries wash away as if flushed out by clean water and reaches a hand down to scratch behind Anakin’s ears, Anakin letting his eyes fall shut and a soft sigh escape from his lips. Obi-Wan looks down at this young man whose heart he will gladly carry to the end of all things, and strokes his hair gently. It looks almost as if Anakin is asleep, so peaceful is he, and Obi-Wan smiles.

“You know something, Anakin?” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin doesn’t open his eyes.

“Hm?” Anakin asks, seemingly content to let the moment pass by without the need for vision.

“You’ve _got_ to stop sleeping naked on the floor of my apartment.” And Obi-Wan gently flicks the tip of Anakin’s nose with his index finger, making Anakin scrunch up his face.

“Not a chance, Master. It’s comfortable, and you still haven’t done what I was hoping you’d do all this time,” Anakin says plainly, as if there is some obvious thing Obi-Wan was meant to be doing this entire time.

“What’s that?” Obi-Wan asks, returning to scratching behind Anakin’s ears and expecting another lighthearted joke.

“Touch me. Put me into a deeper sleep with the Force so when I finally wake up I already have your cock inside me,” Anakin says, utterly casually. But Obi-Wan knows Anakin. This is just another lovely thing to take in stride.

“Oh really? Well then maybe you shouldn’t try to nap on top of me now. Save it for later, dear one, hm?” Obi-Wan teases, and Anakin smiles beatifically, looking like whatever it is an angel should look like.

“I think I can squeeze two naps into my schedule,” Anakin states confidently, and he begins to yawn softly as Obi-Wan continues to scratch behind his ears, the smell and feel of growing life all around them.

\---

He’s asleep. Obi-Wan can certainly tell that much. He’s sprawled on his stomach, limbs spread almost haphazardly across the floor, as if he’d been plopped down with no rhyme or reason. His ear twitches a little bit in his sleep, and what sounds like a soft purr can be heard throughout the room as Obi-Wan approaches him, the pads of his feet making no sound against the hard floor. Obi-Wan kneels behind Anakin, between his spread legs, and he makes his decision. He issues a soft Force command, deepening Anakin’s sleep, before gripping his thighs and spreading them wider, until he can see Anakin’s pretty hole. Now Anakin’s tail moves to the side, and Obi-Wan begins to rub the base of it. Little whimpers escape Anakin in his sleep and his ears twitch again, the pleasure brought to him in his sleep having an effect on him.

“Let’s see what other pretty noises we can get you to make, dear one,” Obi-Wan murmurs, and he strokes Anakin’s entrance with the tip of one finger before crouching down and licking at him, his tongue lapping at Anakin softly as Anakin whines quietly in his sleep, his hips starting to subconsciously grind back against Obi-Wan. But it’s not quite time for that, so Obi-Wan grips Anakin’s tail and uses it to hold him more steady. But the firm grip only serves to excite Anakin within slumber, because he starts squirming, and Obi-Wan pulls away for a moment.

“Well, you seem to like that. I hope you like _this_ , Anakin.” And Obi-Wan wraps Anakin’s tail around his fist and tugs, not any harder than necessary to get Anakin back into position, but Anakin moans in his sleep, and his perfect lips must be endeavoring to form words.

“O-Obi-Wan…” Anakin whispers in his sleep, and Obi-Wan smiles to himself. Anakin is deep in sleep and he will be for a while, but he still has Obi-Wan’s name on his lips. Time for a reward then, for being so good, Obi-Wan thinks, and he begins to really work at Anakin with his mouth, sucking on his rim, prodding at his entrance with his tongue, licking into him as if his life depends on it, feeling a certain kind of high flooding his senses as Anakin opens up to him, even in unconsciousness. Obi-Wan pulls away a bit to look at Anakin’s perfect pink hole, now wet and slightly stretched, before he sits up and looks up and down his entire body, observing the way Anakin’s fingertips twitch in his sleep.

“You have no idea what I have planned for you, do you, _kitten_?” Obi-Wan says, and he releases Anakin’s tail so he can stroke Anakin’s lower back soothingly, Anakin leaning into the touch even in his slumber. “I’ll be right back, darling,” Obi-Wan murmurs, and he stands and walks into his room to retrieve the lubricant that’s in his nightstand. He walks back into the living room to find Anakin exactly where he left him, his legs spread, ready for Obi-Wan to take him. Obi-Wan kneels down behind him and slicks up his fingers before grabbing Anakin’s tail with one hand and using it to steady him before circling Anakin’s entrance with his index finger.

“Mmmm…” Anakin mumbles in his sleep, and Obi-Wan feels himself grow excited at the very prospect of _Anakin’s_ excitement. He gently slides his finger inside Anakin and marvels at how _warm_ Anakin always is, like his own personal sun, glaring and scorching in the most delicious of ways. Obi-Wan has barely touched him, but he already feels his cock hardening at the way Anakin is moving, squirming a little, likely to accommodate his own hardening cock. Obi-Wan hopes Anakin is comfortable, so he reaches out into the Force to get a sense of how Anakin is feeling, really.

When Obi-Wan reaches out into Anakin’s Force signature, he feels absolute bliss. He feels as though he’s been wrapped up in pure, unadulterated warmth that slinks into his soul like summer silence that crumbles away any doubt he had that Anakin is absolutely enjoying this just like he claimed he would, his very being arching into Obi-Wan’s presence like there’s nothing else he’d like in the galaxy. And as Obi-Wan moves his finger in and out of Anakin, it’s as if the very essence of pleasure twists itself up inside him, as Anakin blossoms unconsciously under Obi-Wan’s hand, as Obi-Wan becomes everything that Anakin needs in these moments, breathing in and exhaling what Anakin is, ready to master him if that is what Anakin wishes.

As Anakin’s whimpers increase in volume, Obi-Wan slides a second finger into him, scissoring the two apart as he prepares Anakin for what is to come, devotion running through his heart like an untamed animal as he grips Anakin’s tail a little tighter to hold him in place. Anakin’s toes are curling now, and he’s mewling in his sleep, his ears twitching, but he won’t awaken, not yet. Obi-Wan wants this to be just as Anakin requested. Obi-Wan continues spreading his fingers apart, and he’s caught up in all that Anakin is, in the way that Anakin’s fury is like looking down the barrel of a blaster, the way that his gentleness is like one point in the universe of pure light that spreads out and covers all that it loves, because Anakin _loves,_ unlike anyone else Obi-Wan has ever seen, and now, as he pushes back against him, as Obi-Wan hears him begin to pant, Obi-Wan moves his fingers a little faster before sliding a third one inside, stretching Anakin’s pretty hole, shivering a bit as he thinks about the pretty shapes Anakin’s body makes when he arches in pleasure at Obi-Wan’s touch.

And now, it’s just the two of them. Just the two of them in the entire galaxy, and it seems the galaxy has stopped altogether for this time. It’s halted; it’s compressed down to this single room where things are happening, where Obi-Wan is now sliding his fingers out of Anakin and undressing, watching as Anakin’s body is still moving a little, as if Anakin is missing the sense of Obi-Wan’s touch. And as Obi-Wan slicks up his cock, lifts Anakin a bit and aligns himself with Anakin’s entrance, holding Anakin’s tail with one hand, the galaxy compresses down to just their bodies, Anakin the silver lining of everything, the beginning of everything good and right and the end of all that is horrible. Obi-Wan’s mind is spinning as if it’s just been run in circular motions at lightspeed; he feels almost actually dizzy, but he needs to dive in the deep end that is Anakin’s very presence, and so as he slides his cock inside him gently, his desire goes absolutely unchecked, his hand on Anakin’s tail tightening and his other hand on Anakin’s hip, fingertips brushing against perfectly scarred skin.

And sliding into Anakin is absolute bliss, the complete culmination of anything and everything Obi-Wan could ever want, and he can’t help himself. As Anakin’s body takes him readily and willingly, he leans over him and whispers, “There’s a good kitten,” into one of his perfectly feline ears, his lips brushing against Anakin’s fur. 

“ _Obi-Wan_ …” Anakin moans in his sleep, and Obi-Wan wants to hear more of it, wants to hear more of Anakin’s perfect voice, so he lifts the sleep command and waits for what will follow.

Anakin stiffens for a moment as he wakes, and Obi-Wan feels such adoration flow through his veins, little pinpricks of absolute happiness at being with Anakin in this way that hit him like rapidfire. And then Anakin is speaking.

“Oh _fuck_...Obi-Wan?” Anakin asks, and he turns his head to look at Obi-Wan, his tail twitching now, his face still bleary with sleep, his perfect curls tousled.

“I’m here, dear one,” Obi-Wan says, and he squeezes Anakin’s tail a little tighter before wrapping it around his fist again. Anakin whines, and the sound elicits such desire in Obi-Wan, like a coming thunderstorm announcing its arrival, Anakin in his arousal is a flash of pure energy and power, and Obi-Wan cannot wait to see how this particular event plays out.

“ _Oh,_ you’re fucking me...oh gods I wanted this so bad…” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan sees his face flit between different expressions, both submissive and demanding, and he wonders what Anakin will choose to play at today. 

“Well what did you expect after what you told me earlier, my darling?” Obi-Wan says, and he punctuates his question by thrusting into Anakin harder, deeper, angling himself so he knows he’ll hit that lovely spot inside him. And Anakin lights up, he blooms under Obi-Wan’s hand, arching into the touch and crying out wordlessly, a perfect image of absolute pleasure.

“Oh, _Master_ , I didn’t know it would happen so soon. Fuck, your cock is so _big_. I want it deeper. Fuck me deeper. I need it,” Anakin states, and Obi-Wan watches Anakin’s face as it contorts in carnal delight as Obi-Wan gives him what he wants, and Obi-Wan knows Anakin’s expression must be a mirror image of his own, the two of them swept up in their coming together. And there’s something absolutely _pure_ about it, as if in this moment they are incapable of doing anything except that which is most sacred in its own way, and Anakin is all but a god himself, the force of his feeling bleeding into Obi-Wan’s mind and overwhelming him in its potency, like a drug coursing through his veins, like a knife that twists in his heart but brings no pain, only rapture.

And then it happens. There’s something in the energy between them. The tides shift, and something clings to Anakin like a title, like he’s been bestowed with some ancient glory, some otherworldly favor, because he looks at Obi-Wan and grins wickedly.

“Master, thank you for fucking me awake. But something’s missing here, don’t you think?” Anakin asks, and he pouts a little, but it’s not a pout of submission or obedience. It’s the facial expression of a powerful being who’s just waiting for the command that will unleash him. So Obi-Wan smirks at Anakin and thrusts into him one more time before speaking.

“What do you think is missing, kitten?” Obi-Wan asks, letting playfulness saturate his tone. 

“If I’m such a good kitten, shouldn’t I be in your lap? Don’t you want to sit on the couch and have me crawl over to you, mewling and begging for your cock, already dripping and ready for you to take? Do you want that, Master? Do you want me crawling for you?” Anakin asks, and his ears twitch in interest of whatever Obi-Wan might say, his curiosity spilling into their Force bond like liquid light.

“If you’d like that, dear one, then of course. Be a good kitten for me,” Obi-Wan says, and he pulls out of Anakin before standing and walking over to the couch, sitting down and holding the base of his cock with one hand. He watches as Anakin waves his tail from side to side before slowly crawling over to him on all fours, his eyes heavy-lidded, his prosthetic fingers softly tapping against the floor, his ears standing straight up. When he reaches Obi-Wan, he makes no move to actually climb into his lap. He simply puts his hands on Obi-Wan’s knees and looks at him before looking his cock up and down.

“It’s so big, Obi-Wan. And I took that while I was sleeping? I must be _very_ good at taking your cock. Would you like me to take it now? Would you like me to be a good kitten and bounce up and down on your cock, just how you like?” Anakin asks, and he licks his perfect pink lips. Obi-Wan inhales sharply as Anakin’s fingertips drum against his knees as Anakin waits for him to say something.

“You’re very smart, kitten. So how about you come up here and take it? Do it just how you like it; make yourself feel good, dear one.” And Obi-Wan uses his free hand to pat his lap gently, inviting Anakin to come to him, and hoping Anakin will. Anakin’s Force presence is spiking throughout the room like a weapon that means no harm, and Obi-Wan just wants it to _engulf_ him. Anakin tilts his head to the side as if considering things, and then he stands before climbing onto the couch atop Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan feels a great deal like he’s being looked down upon by a god or godling of some sort, a being meant to be worshiped and lauded and revered. And as Anakin hovers over Obi-Wan’s cock, Obi-Wan uses one hand to tap his own thigh, just to ensure that this whole thing isn’t some absolutely pleasurable and far too realistic dream.

“Do you want me to fuck myself on your cock, Master? Do you want me to do it now?” Anakin inquires, and his voice is hardly more than a whisper, his tone wrapped up in sultry innocence, and it’s a dreadful combination in its effectiveness, Obi-Wan’s cock twitching at the sound of Anakin’s voice.

“ _Yes_ , Anakin. Come on, kitten. You can take it,” Obi-Wan says, and at his words, Anakin lights up, and he sinks down a little, the head of Obi-Wan’s cock sliding inside of him as his tail moves from side to side.

“Like that? Am I doing it right?” Anakin asks, a coy smile on his face, and Obi-Wan finds himself loving this little game Anakin is playing at, his little attempt to toy with the dynamic of things. So he lets the strength of Anakin’s Force presence barrel into him like a speeder and fling him wherever Anakin wishes.

“You’re doing perfectly, dear one. Here, let me help you a bit,” Obi-Wan says, and he reaches out to wrap Anakin’s tail around his fist and pulls gently, encouraging Anakin to sink down further. 

“Oh _fuck_ , that’s so good, Obi-Wan. Do that again while I take your cock,” Anakin says, and as he sinks down further on Obi-Wan’s cock, Obi-Wan pulls harder, pulls Anakin down against him until he bottoms out, their bodies so much closer, connected at a single point, and everything is right. Anakin moves up now, his face tensing and relaxing as he seems to savor the feeling of being close to Obi-Wan in this way. Obi-Wan feels Anakin clenching down around him, and he reaches his free hand out to place on Anakin’s hip, soothing him.

“Relax, kitten. You can take it,” Obi-Wan says, and he rubs Anakin’s hip with his fingers as he gently tugs on his tail. Anakin places his flesh hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder to steady himself before lifting himself up and sinking down again, and his face is absolutely lovely, his ears twitching a bit and his mouth falling open a little. And Anakin in his pleasure is something like an interstellar wonder, a burst of light that’s like dipping one’s toes into a daydream and then being swallowed up, the utter otherness of his being countered with the very real sense of him, the sense that he is Obi-Wan’s home. And now he’s moving up and down, letting out little whimpers and mewls as he takes control of his pleasure.

“Oh, Obi-Wan, I _love_ this,” Anakin breathes, and Obi-Wan watches as his cock disappears and reappears from within Anakin’s body, the slick glide of it threatening to become all too much all too soon. Then he looks into Anakin’s eyes, and Anakin is leaning in to kiss him, lips already parted. And when their lips meet, Anakin’s Force presence envelops them absolutely _perfectly_ , Obi-Wan sighing against Anakin’s mouth as he shelters from the harsh grip of reality in Anakin’s otherworldly embrace, drinking in this part of Anakin’s soul like it was made for him to have, Anakin’s signature casting patterns within the landscape of Obi-Wan’s mind, fleeting, charming images of intensity and desire, and Obi-Wan swears he can almost _taste_ the twining emotions within Anakin’s being, and he inhales, sharing breath with Anakin as they part slightly, their lips all but touching as their breath fans over each other and Obi-Wan opens his eyes to look into the face of his Chosen One.

“ _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan says, and it’s nothing more than the faintest of whispers in the face of kissing the constellation that is Anakin Skywalker. 

“Master, pull my tail harder,” Anakin says, and his voice sounds strung out, but there’s a power behind it that makes Obi-Wan rise to meet its challenge like it’s what he was born for, and he grips Anakin tighter as he yanks on his tail, making Anakin stutter slightly in his motions.

“Ah! That’s it, that’s good just like that oh you’re so good, Master,” Anakin babbles, and Obi-Wan swears the stars were not in order before this moment when they fell into place at the sound of Anakin’s voice.

“You’re such a good kitten for me, Anakin. Show me how much you love me. Show me your very soul,” Obi-Wan says, and through the haze of his arousal, Anakin grins before closing his eyes in concentration.

When Anakin’s Force presence twines with Obi-Wan’s, it is a marriage in all the best ways. Their best and worst qualities float before their minds’ eyes as if carried on a gentle stream, and they see all that they are together, a brilliant burst of color and light and harmony, staggering in its immensity. And throughout it all runs a promise: always. They will rise to meet each other and hold each other up and walk beside one another until every mountain crumbles and every river runs dry and the world has passed away and the stars have fallen from the very sky that holds them. Obi-Wan feels _everything_ : Anakin’s intensity, his gentleness, his burning _love_ for life and for Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan is so caught up in everything that he barely hears Anakin mewling.

Obi-Wan opens his eyes to see Anakin moving up and down, one hand on his cock now as he moves, and Obi-Wan tugs his tail again, making Anakin whine.

“You take it so well, dear one. Do it just how you like it. You’re always so perfect like this, moving on me, taking what you want,” Obi-Wan says, and as he grows distracted by the motion of Anakin’s hand on his own cock, he feels as though he’s growing almost deranged with the need to please him, to bring him what he wants, his perfect kitten. So he pulls harder, keeping the pressure on Anakin’s tail as Anakin whines, his voice echoing slightly in the living room of the apartment as if Anakin’s feelings cannot bear to be contained within one single human body.

“You’re so perfect, Master. Fucking me while I was asleep just how I wanted. I bet you liked that, touching me while I was lying there, didn’t you?” Anakin asks, and his smile is one that promises years of the most delicious misbehavior to come.

Obi-Wan gives Anakin’s tail a sharp little tug and says, “Of course I liked it, kitten. You, lying on the floor, just waiting to be touched by me, woken up in the best way. And you loved waking up with my cock inside you; we both know that,” Obi-Wan says, his thumb rubbing Anakin’s tail, prompting Anakin to mewl again, the sound so precious it lights Obi-Wan’s heart up like a live wire.

“ _Yes_ , I was asleep and then suddenly I was waking up and I was so _full_ and everything felt so _good_. I loved it, loved taking your cock before I even knew I was,” Anakin was, and he angles himself a little differently now, moving his hips just so, and Obi-Wan knows he’s trying to get that perfect angle.

“Just like that, kitten. Take it,” Obi-Wan says, and he watches as Anakin finally finds what he’s been looking for, his hand on his cock stilling for a moment as his jaw drops.

“Oh _gods_ , that’s so good, Master, I feel so _good_. I love fucking myself on you,” Anakin says, and an idea strikes Obi-Wan. Not moving either of his hands, Obi-Wan reaches out into the Force. First, he feels Anakin’s presence, and then he draws from the well of influence that surrounds and pervades all life, and pulls out a tendril for his own use. The piece he’s taken caresses him, as if asking what Obi-Wan means its purpose to be. Obi-Wan’s Force presence answers, comes to intertwine with the tendril he’s drawn, and then he uses it to touch Anakin, his most beloved, over all else. Anakin gasps as he feels the Force brush against his nipples, and his eyes go wide.

“Are you…?” Anakin asks, seemingly completely enraptured by the thought of it as he arches his back, leaning into Obi-Wan and into this new touch as much as he can, his body trembling and the tip of his tail moving from side to side with excitement.

“Lean into it, kitten. This is all for you,” Obi-Wan murmurs. “I love watching you this way, watching you ride my cock. You’re perfect at it, Anakin. Let yourself enjoy it.” And Obi-Wan watches as Anakin bares his very soul for him, his Force signature pulsing wildly with need, his body completely pliant and opened up to Obi-Wan in a way Obi-Wan hopes he will always have the privilege of experiencing.

“Fuck me against the wall,” Anakin says suddenly, and Obi-Wan feels a shiver dance down his spine at the thought of that, at the thought of taking Anakin in such a way. So he smiles.

“Whatever you wish, dear one,” Obi-Wan says, and now Anakin is climbing off of him, the Force tendril receding into Obi-Wan’s hands, and Anakin is standing with his hands on one of the walls of the living room, spreading his legs and sticking his hips out, looking back at Obi-Wan as Obi-Wan rises from the couch.

“Come _here_ , Master,” Anakin says, removing his prosthetic hand from the wall and beckoning to Obi-Wan with one finger, spreading his legs a little wider as Obi-Wan walks over to him. Obi-Wan finds himself by Anakin’s side in a few seconds, rushing over to him and whispering in his ear as he presses his cock at Anakin’s entrance.

“Do you want it, kitten? Do you want me to fill you up?” Obi-Wan asks, now stroking down Anakin’s back with one hand until he reaches his tail and tugs. Anakin keens and pushes back against him.

“ _Yes_ , Master. I need it. Give it to me,” Anakin purrs, and Obi-Wan can tell he’s holding his breath and waiting for Obi-Wan to act. So Obi-Wan pushes the head of his cock inside Anakin and watches Anakin’s face as it turns to an expression of absolute ecstasy, his relief palpable. 

“Like that? Is that what you want, dear one? Do you need more?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin moans as Obi-Wan presses further, slides all the way inside him and pushes him up against the wall. And Anakin gasps as he pushes back against it, his Force presence now enfolding them with warmth, and it would be almost overwhelming if Obi-Wan didn’t know him so absolutely intimately. Obi-Wan knows all the passageways and nooks of Anakin’s mind, there’s no need for Anakin’s signature to attempt to guide him through things because he’s already diving, already letting the rush take him away. But beneath that warmth, there’s a sense of urgency, a sense of things that must be done here and now and absolutely immediately, so Obi-Wan yanks at Anakin’s tail a little and grabs Anakin’s hip with his other hand, thrusting into him as Anakin starts to mewl again.

“That’s right, talk to me, kitten. Tell me how you feel. What’s happening in that mind of yours, my dear?” Obi-Wan asks, and he waits ever so patiently for Anakin to break out of the somewhat trance he’s in and open up to him, really. So he slows down a moment, allowing Anakin a moment to settle down. Anakin’s breathing is still heavy, but through his little noises he’s able to speak.

“I love when you fuck me like this, pushed up against the wall, Master. Makes me feel absolutely _perfect_ ,” Anakin says, his voice catching a little on itself as if it’s tangled on something and unable to quite get ahold of itself. Then Obi-Wan speeds up his pace again and hears as Anakin’s breath catches in his throat, Obi-Wan feeling the urgency he can’t hold down any longer, the warmth of Anakin’s body and the poignancy of Anakin’s soul coaxing something out of the very essence of what makes Obi-Wan himself and feeding into this all too brief synergy between the two of them, the sum of their combined signatures being so perfect, unique in their coming together and all too anciently meant to be.

“Are you going to come for me, kitten? Are you going to touch your pretty cock for me and be a good boy?” Obi-Wan asks, and he tugs at Anakin’s tail. Anakin is about to crumble in the most positive ways; Obi-Wan knows this. He just needs a little push to fall over that edge.

“Oh gods, _Master_ , you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Maybe I will, just for you,” Anakin purrs, and Obi-Wan sees Anakin remove his flesh hand from the wall and move it downward. And if he weren’t already able to tell what Anakin’s intent is, it’s made clear by the gasp leaving Anakin’s lips like a silver sliver of breath that was meant for only Obi-Wan to hear. Anakin starts pushing back against him more enthusiastically, his body almost completely flush with Obi-Wan’s as he breathes heavily, the sound intoxicating as his ears twitch and Obi-Wan holds his tail tightly.

“Such a good kitten for me. Keep going, dear one. You know how you like it,” Obi-Wan says, and there’s a certain sense of innocence to the way Anakin cries out as he’s fucked into, a certain purity to the sound of his voice. Anakin always moans like he’s never been fucked before, and right now the sound of it makes Obi-Wan want to _tear him apart_ and build him back up, piece by piece. So he leans in again to whisper to Anakin.

“You’re being so good for me. I wonder what it will take to make you come. Do you want it harder? Deeper? How does my kitten want me?” Obi-Wan asks. “Do you want me to come inside you? On your face? On your pretty hole? I will give you whatever it is that you wish.” And as Obi-Wan fucks into Anakin, he angles himself more accurately, pushes deeper inside him, thrusts harder, barely giving Anakin a chance to answer.

“I, I _need it_ ,” Anakin says simply, and Obi-Wan can feel Anakin’s Force presence going absolutely wild with Anakin’s desire and pleasure, and Obi-Wan can all but hear the inner workings of Anakin’s mind and soul as Anakin sinks deeper into the feeling of everything, and Obi-Wan wants to ride this high endlessly, wants to let his soul merge with Anakin’s. Loving Anakin is an exploration into the furthest reaches of outer space, it’s a picturesque sunrise that can’t be contained or properly replicated by any other sentient being. And now Anakin is close to coming, Obi-Wan can tell, so he places open-mouthed kisses on Anakin’s neck and murmurs against his skin.

“Come for me, kitten.” And at Obi-Wan’s words, Anakin is whimpering brokenly, little sounds escaping his lips that sound strangled, but Anakin’s Force presence is _brilliant_. It’s pulsing with absolute satisfaction, cresting in a golden wave that pulls Obi-Wan under and makes his own presence sing at the very experience of being overtaken by Anakin in this way. Obi-Wan feels Anakin’s tail twitching in his hand so he tightens his grip and Anakin mewls as he comes and Obi-Wan is caught wishing he could be engulfed by this moment forever. And then Anakin clenches down around him, his body so perfect and used and his mind and soul so open, and Obi-Wan is coming.

Obi-Wan feels his body reacting, feels himself coming inside Anakin, feels Anakin crying out “ _Please_ , Master,” but it’s almost as if everything physical is simultaneously very immediate and very far away. Obi-Wan is in the apartment, coming inside Anakin. But he’s also lying on his back, floating in a pool of pure glittering starlight. Obi-Wan is tugging at Anakin’s tail as Anakin grinds back against him, but he is also wrapping his hand around the shining light that is Anakin’s soul as it caresses him, strokes across his cheek and wraps him in its furious passion. But wherever Obi-Wan is, he is with Anakin.

\---

“Thank you for cleaning up, Master,” Anakin says as they lie side by side in bed, Anakin nuzzling up under Obi-Wan’s chin. Obi-Wan chuckles, and his own voice sounds so warm, so content, it almost takes him aback for a moment.

“It’s my pleasure, dear one. You needed to clean yourself up anyway, and we both know you take far too long with that,” Obi-Wan teases, now prompting Anakin to laugh quietly.

“I take the perfect amount of time, thank you,” Anakin says, and he throws his leg over Obi-Wan and snuggles up closer. Anakin is always so warm, though he grows cold easily, a small sun for Obi-Wan to bask in.

“Well, maybe I just wish you’d hurry so I could hold you again,” Obi-Wan counters, tightening his arm around Anakin. Anakin all but purrs with satisfaction at the statement.

“Obi-Wan?”

“Yes, Anakin?”

“Grand Master Yoda whacks the backs of people’s knees with his walking stick,” Anakin says, and he starts shaking slightly with quiet giggles. Obi-Wan rolls his eyes even as he begins to chuckle.

“It’s not funny anymore, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says sternly, though he speaks amidst his laughter already.

“You just don’t have a sense of humor, then,” Anakin states firmly, and he nuzzles up against Obi-Wan again, his fuzzy ears tickling Obi-Wan’s face. Obi-Wan sighs.

“It is true. I have no sense of humor whatsoever, dear one. You are the funny man here. I’m content with being the one with a good head on his shoulders,” Obi-Wan says, and he moves his hand down to rub Anakin’s hip under the blankets.

“That’s insulting, Master. I won’t have it,” Anakin says, and he sits up before climbing atop Obi-Wan, looming over him on all fours as his tail swishes from side to side and his ears lay flat against his head, the blankets having slid off his body.

“Oh no, whatever are you going to do to me, kitten?” Obi-Wan asks in mock horror, holding his hands up in surrender. Anakin glares down at him. Then...Anakin laughs, the sound ringing clear as a bell.

“I don’t know, actually. I hadn’t planned it out,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan reaches up and pulls Anakin down on top of him before kissing the top of his head.

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to try and plan out everything together?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin now snuggles up against him once more, lifting his head to look Obi-Wan in the eyes.

“I’m willing to plan out anything with you, Master,” Anakin says, and there’s a flirty tint to his voice, but there’s also a purity and clarity of mind that envelops them as Obi-Wan reaches out and touches his Force presence to Anakin’s own, Anakin’s rising up to meet him in a wave. And Obi-Wan reaches deep into himself, shows Anakin _everything_ , and knows Anakin is doing the same for him, and their signatures intertwine with one another, their souls temporarily merging into something beyond anything they could have created on their own. And it is still only late afternoon.


End file.
